Bitter
by Shadowfang3000
Summary: "Parents can always see through the lies of children." - Bofur had little to do as he sat watch during the night, save for reflecting on the people he called friends, and the people he didn't want to know.


(A/N) A story about the Hobbit? What in the tower-nation?! D:

Something tells me Bofur deserve more fics, since he is my favourite dwarf mainly due to his lovable Irishness and that badass hat of his, as well as his approach to Bilbo in An Unexpected Journey (Have you noticed that he was one of the only dwarves who spoke to him equally from early on, and was even the first one to wonder where he was during the Stone Giants scene? :D)

Anyway, this fic portrays the scene where Bofur confronts Bilbo when he tries to leave the company with my own spin on things.

WARNING: A sombre Bofur reminiscing in his fan-made past, some naughty words, and angst!

**Bitter**

He didn't know why he chose to snuggle up in the cave's corner until he spent a few minutes analysing the pros and cons. While true: It gave him a rather bad case of pins-and-needles around the bottom and back, it stopped the chill of the silent winds from sneaking down his collar and wrecking havoc with his exposed neck. He made sure to sit up, not wanting to fall to the seductive fingers of sleep just yet.

_Four more hours._

_Four more __**bloody**__ hours._

Bifur had promised that he'd swap places with him then, during a very quick - and very rare – exchange between the two brothers. Bofur passed a quick glance at the rest of the company of Thorin Oakenshield, all on their sides or their backs or their fronts, curled up or sprawled out or huddled together in the alluring grip of unconsciousness.

Well, save for Thorin of course: His eyes hadn't even blinked since they arrived in the cave, be it the adrenaline from their confrontation with the Stone Giants fuelling him or the anxiety and annoyance directed towards the untimely disappearance of the Grey Wizard.

It was neither, Bofur could tell. Just like him Thorin rarely slept, dark memories prodding the back of his skull every time he began to surrender to the tendrils the night brought with it. Poor lad...

But with a past like his, who wouldn't fear the dark? He'd seen his home collapse before him, powerless to stop it. He'd seen his father succumb to insanity, and eventually lose his head – Both figuratively and literally. He'd lived through a life filled with nothing but death and despair. He always acted like some brave, powerful, strong-headed hero, but Bofur saw through that thick shield, piercing it like a broadsword through cloth.

_Parents can always see through the lies of children._

Bofur pretended not to notice him and continued his watch, staring through a breach in the cliff-face and watching a trickle of rainwater on its journey. It slipped in, slid down a few metres, and then pooled in a small dent in the ground. Bofur rested his chin on his Mattocks head calmly, as if posing for an Elvish painting. All he needed was an apple on his head and the image would be perfect, but he didn't appear to have one of those succulent fruits on his person.

His left hand patted his right pocket to find that he had no Pipe-Weed on him either. The lads must've swiped it from him earlier, Fili and Kili. He doubted those cheeky kids had any idea how to smoke a pipe; they'd probably stick it in their gobs the wrong way round!

Bofur craned his neck around to see that the two boys were quite close by, huddled together under the same blanket for warmth and companionship.

They were an endearing if not mischievous duo to have around, but Bofur couldn't help but worry about them: This was no journey for two inexperienced and naive boys who had no idea what the Lonely Mountain had in store for them.

Barely hours before, when Bofur was certain that a good chunk of the company had met its demise between the crushing weight of rock and iron, Fili emerged without of scratch to the teary embrace of his brother. The young boy hadn't stopped crying until a comforting word from his brother and the Toymaker brought him down to a worrisome sniffle. Even now he was breathing deeply, his nose red and his face still stained with tears at his older brother's side.

If so little could break him, why in Durin's name was he on this quest? Bofur and his kin had joined the company knowing full well that many would die along the way, yet the stupid boy took no heed to such a warning!

Joy riders, the two of them!

It made him _sick_ to his stomach.

He'd take his pipe back in the morning, and teach those bastards to keep their grubby fingers off his things.

Bofur sighed, rubbing his eyes and shaking his head slowly: He was just tired; he didn't really feel that way did he? He couldn't _really_ be this bitter inside.

_Could he?_

He was itching for a whiff of Old Toby, just a bit to calm him down...

He'd never been a fan of Hobbits, nor was he a fan of their farming produce, but a quick natter with Oin and Dori had convinced him to partake in a pint of their ale and a puff of their weed whilst they were spending a night at _his_ home.

Bilbo Baggins, the apparent "Burglar" of this quest handpicked by the Grey Wizard with the claim that he was skilled in his pursuit.

To be honest, Bofur was just as doubtful as the rest of his kin when he first met the cowardly man: He had been nothing but a burden since the very first day, his only real purpose being an extra pair of hands to carry the food. But still, for some strange reason he felt a warm feeling towards him, no matter how foolish he was.

To be honest, he reminded him of his son.

_No wonder he was so frightened barely hours before..._

Bofur took to staring at the ground, the rain having grown rather dull quite quickly. He took to studying the patterns pebbles and stones made on the dirt-ridden cave floor, a pastime he made for himself back in his youth. It was comparable to cloud watching, though he found this version much more challenging.

_He saw one that resembled a sausage._

_He saw one that resembled a flower._

_He saw on that resembled a tear drop._

He stopped playing at that point, sitting in an awkward silence.

Bollocks, he really needed some smoke in his lungs.

He shyly stood up from his seated position to try and pry his pipe from the twins grasp, having spotted it coiled close to Kili's chest as if it were some sort of cuddly bear. It was then that he noticed a certain hairy-footed Hobbit packing his bags and making his way for the exit.

"What do you think you're doing Bilbo?" He asked, curious as to why he was suddenly taking his leave. The Hobbit froze like a spider under torchlight, his shoulders tensing up.

"... Nothing, don't mind me!" He replied nervously, nothing but his jaw moving. Bofur raised his hands forward, as if trying to catch a falling child.

"You're packing... Are you trying to leave?" Bofur asked, still holding up his facade of stupidity despite knowing the exact reason that he was trying to depart. Bilbo spun around, his face filled with a foreign annoyance that Bofur had never seen before.

"Yes, of course I am. Do you think I'm welcome in this company? You're all heroes, fit for tales of adventure to be recited throughout the years, me? I'm just a coward!"

_Yes you are _Bofur wanted to say. _Whoopdi-doo, you're far from home and you have no reason to be here._

"What do you mean? You're one of the gang!" Bofur gasped, mocking sadness at the revelation. Bilbo shook his head, swinging his gaze across the unconscious Dwarves surrounding him.

"Look at them. Look at me. Do I look like I belong here?" He asked, his voice raising. Bofur took a testing step forward, trying to close the distance between them.

"Listen, come here, I have a story to tell you." He beckoned, his charming, almost cheeky grin filling his face. "Come on."

Bilbo looked wary, but complied. Slowly and delicately navigating through the sprawled out masses of several snoozing bodies, he met with Bofur sitting in his small alcove.

He hated this job, but it was something he was expected to do. Whenever one of the boys had something on their mind, it was his task to console them about it. Balin gave him the job, and he held on to his duty out of respect for his elder rather than joy for the task. _Not that he told him that._

"What? What is it?" Bilbo growled, not entirely pleased with this interruption from his scheduled departure. Bofur rested against his Mattock once more, fumbling for his pipe only to recall its current location once more.

"Do you remember what happened out there a few hours ago? With those giants and all that?" Bofur inquired, leaning forward with his weary face still moulded into a joyful expression.

"Of course, I nearly got everyone killed." Bilbo sighed, twisting his body to leave. Bofur extended a hand to stop him, rising to his feet.

"Exactly my point!" He cheered a bit too loudly. Thankfully the notoriously heavy sleeping dwarves in the room didn't stir, though he could see that Thorin was eyeing him. Bilbo raised an eyebrow, turning back.

"... Excuse me?" He mumbled, genuinely confused. _Figures, _Bofur thought, _all this effort to make this bollocks up, and you don't even understand._

"Look, it's perfectly simple! You were in danger, yet we all sprang in to action to save you! Tell me, if we didn't see you as one of the pack, why would we try and fish you out from the jaws of the baddies eh?" He chuckled, patting the Hobbit's back roughly.

"Or you did it because Gandalf would be angry if I kicked the bucket under your watch." Bilbo sulked, looking away once more. _For Durin's sake, stop moaning you stupid oaf!_

"Nonsense. To be honest, I was pretty sure that Gandalf was gone for good around then. Nope, we all wanted to save you because you're our friend. Just ask the lads, they'd agree." He gestured to Kili and Fili, still breathing in unison despite the loud thunder outside. Bilbo still wouldn't stop whining, and he got up to try and leave once more.

"That make's three of you." Bilbo said. _That make's two of you actually, stop assuming. _"You heard what Thorin said, what Dwalin thinks."

"Oh, sod those two!" Bofur suddenly growled loudly. His eyes cautiously shot at the King under the Mountain. His expression didn't change, perhaps he was actually asleep? "Some people in this group hate others. Quite a lot of people here hate Bifur. Gloin and Oin both have quite a big dislike for Ori. It doesn't matter! If you're going to let someone pull you down like that, then..."

_What am I talking about?_

"... Well? Then...?" Bilbo questioned bitterly.

"... Nothing..." Bofur whispered. "N-Nothing, just forget I spoke..."

"... Pointless, you're hopeless, you really are." Bilbo muttered. He stood up and went back to pack his belongings. Bofur simply watched, his expression unchanging as his mind began to question its intentions.

_What exactly was he trying to do just then? Was he trying to convince him to stay or to leave? Furthermore, why in the lord's name did he even care?_

_He was growing soft with the years, he really was. He genuinely wanted the Hobbit to stay, but he had no idea why. He was sickening in his eyes, nothing but a burden, but he wanted him to stay._

"Look, listen Bilbo..." He started softly. Bilbo spun around to meet his gaze quickly, his expression firm.

"No, you listen here. I'm leaving, and there's nothing you can do about it. And I want you to know how much I hate everyone here, especially you!" He punctuated his point with a jab of the finger.

_He hated __**him**__?_

"N-Nah, surely you like some of us!" Bofur smiled, his lips wobbling more and more as time went on.

"No! You're always so happy, so naive. Why don't you look at your situation from the right perspective for once? Why don't you stop and realise that NOBODY wants you! NOBODY needs you! You belong NOWHERE!" Bilbo screamed.

_Why isn't anyone waking up?_

"Thorin, that smug git thinks he's all that when really he knows that everyone will die! Balin thinks he understands everyone, but in all honesty he's just as stupid as those two bloody twins! Oin, Gloin, Ori, Nori, Dori, ALL OF THEM!" He practically ran up to Bofur, spitting at his face and releasing all of his pent up rage and frustration. Bofur couldn't speak, and just did all he could to keep on smiling.

_Somebody, please help._

"So, next time you think you understand me. Don't talk to me, got it?" Bilbo growled.

Bofur nodded, more out reflex than actual agreement.

Bilbo left the cave.

He didn't call for him.

_This isn't how it's meant to be._

(A/N): Well, that changed direction around half-way through D:  
What do you think? :/


End file.
